


Thank You

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has seen him serious and focused, shy and hesitant, crazy and unpredictable, funny and cheerful, and he liked what he saw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You

They have been seeing each other for almost three months.

It started with a little help from Deadpool during one of Peter’s patrols. He appeared from nowhere and offered his assistance against some very aggressive thugs.

He continued for several nights, until Peter felt forced to thank him somehow. A single invitation became routine and now they always end their day with a small meal and a chat on a rooftop.

Initially Peter was sure it was a _bad_ idea. But Deadpool never tried to kill him, he was very friendly ( _too friendly_ ) and offered his food to him on more occasions. He didn’t make very sense half of the time he opened his mouth and Peter had to use all his brain ability to understand something. But he could be cool and under that dense layer of craziness, violence and crudeness there was a smart man. 

Of course Peter complicated things with his awkwardness: one day, while telling the merc a funny episode that happened to him when he was little, his own name escaped from his lips.

"So, my aunt" (everyone has an aunt, right? Peter thought he could include that detail, but…) "my aunt told me, hands on her hips like a true soldier: ‘Peter Parker, you…’" The realization hit him like a sack of brick right in the face and Deadpool’s ( _Wade_ , Peter had been calling him like that almost since the beginning) grin was so bright even a blind person could see it.

"So Spidey’s real name is Peter Parker, huh? Interesting… Dunno why, but it doesn’t surprise me too much… What do you mean, I heard it already?"

Peter ignored his last words - apparently Wade had these “boxes” inside his head he talked with every minute of every day - and groaned with an epic facepalm.

"Hey, now, no worries, baby boy!" the merc exclaimed moving closer to him and wrapping a big gun oil-dirty arm around his shoulders. "I won’t tell anyone, I swear! How could I ruin the superhero life of such a cutie? I’d never forgive myself!"

"Yeah, right." Peter muttered, but Wade seemed sincere enough and from that day on he let him use his real name. He made him swear on his weapons, dick and every Mexican food in the world to never reveal it though.

Now, three months after, they are… friends. Peter supposes he can use this word now. He’s actually surprised, but it’s a good kind of surprise. He always thought Wade could become someone better - everyone can, his Uncle taught him that - and he’s glad to see he wasn’t wrong.

Even before starting to see him every night, he knew of his cancer-filled past and atrocities suffered at the Weapon X program. Three months can be a lot and nothing at the same time and Wade never spoke of his past during them. Occasionally pieces of information and random details slipped out and Wade did everything he could to change topic before Peter could ask something more.

But the young hero knows his crude and violent behavior is caused all the pain - physical and mental - he had to bear and still is bearing. He thinks it’s pretty… _beautiful_ that Wade wants to become a better man despite all the big difficulties on his path.

This night they are eating Chinese and Wade is telling him of that time he bought a classic Chinese dress online.

"Never again." he sputters munching happily his noodles. "It was so small and tight! What kind of sizes those guys even have?"

"Please tell me it wasn’t a _female_ dress.” Peter snorts. He’s used to Wade’s love for feminine dresses and what not, but he can’t really imagine him wearing one of those silk red dresses.

… Or maybe he can, especially after Wade’s grin and suggestive jiggle of hairless eyebrows.

They are not wearing their masks. After all Wade knows Peter’s name now and it wouldn’t be hard for him to find the young hero.

Peter has already seen his face on multiple occasions and he isn’t disgusted by it. Of course, the scars are kinda ugly and look extremely painful, but he doesn’t mind them. The first time they sat down to eat Wade asked with a low voice if he could remove it, afraid to ruin the hero’s appetite.

Peter always makes sure to reassure him and his gaze doesn’t linger on the shifting red lines and bumps, but on the merc’s eyes, showing no disgust or discomfort. Wade then relaxes and his jokes are funnier, his stories less violent and Peter has noticed he doesn’t talk with his “boxes” so much anymore.

He wonders how it would be to eat during the day at some Mexican stand or in the park. Wade is the only one who gets his jokes and shares his passion with old TV shows and pop culture and this is really, _really_ surprising, but Peter has learnt to enjoy his company. They even talked a bit about how he could make a good impression on the media and the other superheroes.

Peter has seen him serious and focused, shy and hesitant, crazy and unpredictable, funny and cheerful, and he liked what he saw.

He knows Wade is a merc, he kills people for hire - or at least _killed,_ he’s trying not to do it anymore now. He doesn’t care he failed before, he wants to try again and succeed this time and Peter respects that.

So he smiles with sincerity and says: “You know, Wade, you are not that bad after all.”

He sees surprise appearing on the scarred face, but it’s promptly replaced by a leer and the merc elbows him on the side.

"My, Petey, are you hitting on me? I know this look is irresistible, but you have to say much more than that if you want to conquest me."

Peter nudges him too, snorting: “I mean ‘bad’ as a person. You can be good. The other day you saved two kids and the last month you got the bullet for a grandma. And you don’t always say stupid things. You’re cool, I mean…” he stops and blushes, because Wade is staring at him  with panic and confusion.

"Uh… what?"

"For real? Are you kidding? Is it a joke?" Wade asks slowly and Peter shakes his head with a frown.

"No, no, I’m not kidding! I always thought you were crazy as a loon - and, well, _you are_ \- but you are not that bad as everyone wants to make you look. As _you_ make yourself look.”

Wade is the one blushing now - it’s hard to tell with all those scars, but Peter is used to his face and can recognize the various emotions on it - and he looks away, clutching his noodles box until it’s crushed.

"I was thinking…" Peter continues lowering his gaze on the street below and observing the cars, lights and tiny ant-like people. "There is a fantastic Mexican stand near my apartment. We could go there tomorrow … for lunch."

"Lunch?" Wade is looking at him again, but Peter doesn’t lift his own gaze from the street and replies: "Well, yes. I mean, now we know a lot about each other, right? You know my name and how I look, you even know my job at the Daily Bugle. And I know about you and it’s kinda awkward for two friends to see each other just at night, on a dirty rooftop with blood and sweat on our superheroes costumes." Peter’s voice trails off and he clears embarrassingly his throat.

"So… you are telling me… we are friends? Me and you? You and I? Spidey and Deadpool? Petey and Wadey?"

"Well… _yes_.” Peter finally looks at him and Wade’s eyes drills into him.  
“I mean, we’ve been seeing each other for three months, we helped each other during battles, ate together every single night, exchanged stories, I told you about my Uncle…” ( _That_ has been a very serious and deep night and Peter is still extremely grateful to Wade for having respected him and his Uncle during the narration)

The merc stays quiet for a while, much to Peter’s worry, but then he scoffs and throws the noodles box down off the skyscraper. Peter would like to complain, but the look on the scarred face is resigned and sad and he doesn’t say anything.

"I’m not good, Petey, you better learn it now."

"But you can become good. Is not that why you asked for my help?"

The merc shrugs and he’s shy again, not daring to look at the young man. There is a small smile on his lips now though.

"Friends, huh?" he repeats and the smile grows bigger. "I can’t shoot your leg though."

"No, you can’t." Peter says punching him on the shoulder. He knows about poor Bob and he wonders how that man managed to stay friends with Wade for so long. "But you can go out with me tomorrow. That Mexican stand is really good."

Wade mumbles something that sounds like “I’ll have to wear something nice…”

"Hey, no mask!" Peter reminds him placing his empty noodles box on the rooftop and nudging the merc again. "Don’t worry about your face, understood?"

"And what if someone you know sees you with a man like me?" Wade’s tone is soft and sad and Peter feels his own sadness creeping inside his heart.

"Don’t worry." he repeats patting Wade’s hand resting on the ledge. The merc looks down at their touching hands and Peter immediately pulls it away.

"I don’t care about people. And I think it would be even more difficult to explain who you are if you wore your mask."

"…Okay."

It’s weird seeing Wade like this. Not that they didn’t share their serious moments, but this time the merc looks more worried than usual and tense. He’s usually clingy and likes to touch Peter, pats on the head, smack on the shoulder, he even touched his butt one time (and earned himself a kick). But now he’s avoiding Peter’s eyes again and he shifts uncomfortably on the edge of the roof.

"So…" Peter says slowly clasping his hands. "What about 12 PM then? The stand is not far from here, we could meet right in front of this building." and he points at the cold ledge they are sitting on.

Wade thinks for a moment and Peter realizes he’s back to normal, with his huge grin and funny antics.

"A date with Spidey…" he says stroking his chin and glancing at Peter, who rolls his eyes but can’t help the blush spreading over his cheeks.

"It’s not a date in that sense, knucklehead." he replies getting up and dusting his posterior off (Wade leans back to look appreciatively). "It’s a date between friends."

"A brodate! I get it. Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t hold your hand or try to kiss you in public."

He moves closer to Peter, though, wraps an arm around his waist and kisses his cheek.

“ _Wade!_ ”

"See ya tomorrow, baby boy!" the merc laughs putting his mask on and running away towards the stairs. Peter hears him stumble and fall, but the loud booming voice reassures him: "I’m okay! I’m okay! Just lost my spleen!"

Peter snorts and when everything is silent again he shoots his webs and heads back home.

He’s pretty excited for tomorrow and can’t wait to make Wade taste that special Mexican food. He hopes everything will be ok, but he’s sure he can handle Wade, he knows him well now.  
  
  
\- - -  
  
  
It’s 12 PM and Peter is fidgeting in front of the building they were eating at the top of the night before. People walk by ignoring him and Wade is nowhere to be found.

He’s not late, but Peter seriously hopes he won’t stand him up or didn’t _forget_ their… how did he call it? Ah, brodate. Sometimes cancer messes with Wade’s mind, but he is usually good with important stuff.

This is important for him, isn’t it…? It seemed so, he even blushed and thought about wearing good clothes…

Peter grumbles, cursing himself because he’s acting like a teenager, and keeps waiting. Five minutes pass and finally someone calls him, taking him by surprise because he was too busy looking at his shoes to see who was coming.

"Nice sweater, baby boy."

Peter jumps and looks up: Wade is grinning at him from the shadows of a baseball cap tucked under the hood of a heavy Deadpool hoodie.

"Oh… uh…" Peter looks down at his Spider-Man sweater under the jacket and smiles. "Thanks. Nice hoodie."

He’s glad Wade isn’t wearing his mask - he was afraid he would have put it on the same - and he notices with a bigger smile than his hands are bare too. Wade follows his gaze and immediately hides them in the hoodie pocket.

"Gotta warn you, baby boy, I’m so hungry I could eat even that shit they sell at _Olive Garden_ , so we better head soon to that glorious Mexican stand.”

"Same. This way."

They talk and joke as they do every night on the rooftops, but Wade is keeping himself at distance, tense and stiff. When the flow of people force one of them to go near the other, the merc immediately pulls away, eyes on the street ahead, mouth never stopping, but body surrounded by an aura of fear and discomfort.

Peter understands, it’s probably because he’s not at ease with all these people around him. Many look at him despite their hurry and even if his face is partially covered, sunlight can still reach it and his scars and scabs are visible.

Peter wonders with a painful sadness in his heart if this has been a good idea. He didn’t want to ruin Wade’s day or embarrass him. He glances at him and sees he’s still talking and laughing, ignoring the occasional stares with courage, as if they are walking alone.

"So I told the Zapata Brothers to do as I said, because my plans are always fantastic and the surprise effect is fucking awesome, especially if you do it well saying _'Hi!'_ when people open your coffin…”

Wade stops talking when a child passes near them crying out “Dad, wait!” with a huge ice cream cone in his little hands. The child stumbles upon something, maybe the feet of a hasty manager on his way to work, and his ice cream falls on the sidewalk with a loud ‘ _splat_ ’.

The child stares at the wasted chocolate with pain, sadness, disappointment and other ugly feelings that look so much worse on a face so innocent and sweet. He slowly gets up - his knees and hands are grazed too - and looks ahead where his dad is impatiently waiting for him.

"Come on, Thomas, it’s late! Forget the ice cream."

The child glances for a last time at his beloved, but before he can run to his father, a big scarred hand falls on his shoulder. The boy looks up with a gasp and his already big eyes are the size of two golf balls now.

"Hey, kid." Wade says softly. "Looks like the street ate your ice cream, huh? It’s goddamn rude, it ate my tacos once. Here, take this." He hands the boy a ten dollar bill and a clean white handkerchief with a Deadpool logo on it.

"Go buy an entire ice cream truck and eat some for me too, okay? No need to give me back the hanky, I have lots at home since nobody wants to buy them."

Peter - whose eyes are as big as the child’s - watches in awe as the kid smiles brightly at Wade, ignoring completely his scars, and says: “Thank you, mister!” He wipes off the blood and dirty on his hands and knees and then carefully tuck the handkerchief and money inside his pockets.

He smiles shyly again and then runs off: his father is walking towards them, maybe alerted by the two men who approached his son, but stops when the boy hugs his legs and tells him what happened. The father looks up with a perplexed expression, but Wade is already walking away and Peter can only follow him.

"Where was I…?" Wade mumbles thoughtfully as if nothing happened. "Uhhh… Bea Arthur? No, White Box is right, it wasn’t Bea…"

"That…" Peter murmurs softly, still in awe. "That was… very sweet."

"What was sweet? Bea Arthur? Of course she’s sweet, you uncultured spider!"

"No, I mean… That thing with the little kid! You’ve been very kind." Peter smiles, thinking about the look on the boy’s face when he saw the ten dollars bill. "He’s really going to buy all the ice cream in his neighborhood with that money."

Wade snorts, rolls his eyes and blushes and the combination is something that warms Peter’s heart and makes him laugh.

"Deadpool may be an ass, but Wade Wilson is actually kinda cute." he says and laughs harder when Wade turns to him with indignation burning in his eyes.

"How dare you!" he shrieks. "I’m not cute! I’m manly as hell!"

"Please, this is very old."

"Yeah, I know, but it’s true! Don’t ever say that again, I have a reputation to maintain!"

The rest of the day passes smoothly. Wade orders every possible thing at the Mexican stand and pats Peter’s back appreciatively, saying “it’s the best goddamn shit he has ever eaten in New York”.

"I knew you would have liked it."

"So you said you live around here, right?" Wade remembers grinning and Peter groans, because that dork can really have a good memory for things he considers important.

"Yes, I said that."

"… You aren’t gonna invite me over?" Wade flutters the eyelashes he doesn’t have, clasping his hands together and making smooching noises.

Peter rubs his neck, thinking about the possible consequences of such an invitation. He really enjoyed this day - despite some really dirty jokes he hopes to forget soon - and he’s the one who said they are friends. Friends invite each other at their house, right?

"Fine!" he sighs defeated and Wade squeals in delight. "But you have to swear you won’t touch my comic collection and especially my camera! Or I’m going to rip your hands off."

"Cross my heart!" and they head to the near old building, Wade bouncing and talking fast with a grin plastered on his scars. Seeing him like that makes Peter think about the little kid and he knows he’s probably having the same look of happiness right now, as he buys the first of many ice cream cones thanks to Wade.  
  
  
\- - -  
  
  
“Wow, you are a _nerd_!” Wade laughs observing the DNA poster on the wall, the difficult heavy books scattered across the table, the list with the mechanical parts Peter needs to acquire to occasionally fix his web-shooters.

"So this is your comic collection, huh? I’m disappointed, boy… And who is this cute old lady in the photo?"

"That’s my Aunt May. No, don’t touch…!"

"Aww, she looks so nice! A thinner version of Bea Arthur!"

"Thanks… I guess."

Wade explores every room in the little cheap apartment, gives it a 7/10 (“I like that big comfy bed, baby boy, but the shower is a pithole, how do you even move in that?”) and then sinks into the sofa, turning the TV on.

"Hey, do you have something to eat? A snack? Cookies? Chips? Chocolate?"

"What the hell, Wade, we ate just half hour ago!"

"I’ve got a big stomach. And that’s not the only big thing I’ve got, baby b-OUCH, sorry, sorry!"

They end up watching old episodes of _Star Trek_ and Peter finds in the fridge two remaining slices of apple pie his Aunt made for him few days ago.

Wade is clingy, cuddly and loud again, he even removed the hood and baseball cap. He fakes a yawn and drapes an arm across Peter’s shoulder, who firmly pushes it away. The scarred hand is now on his thigh and Peter grips the wrist and smack the merc on the face with his own knuckles.

"Ow! Hey, it’s not fair! You can’t hit me with my body parts, it’s humiliating!"

"Then stop being an idiot and watch the show." Peter replies, but his tone is not angry and he’s trying hard not to show his smile.

Wade mumbles something with his boxes about “not required unnecessary violence” and turns back to watch the screen and comment about Kirk’s adventures.

Peter finds himself laughing and playfully bantering with the merc about the show, stealing bites of pie from each other’s plate and listing all the pros and cons of the new movie recently released.

They are currently discussing the cast choices when someone knocks on the apartment door. Peter gets up to open it and doesn’t see how Wade froze on the spot, pale and tense again.

"Aunt May!" Peter exclaims happily hugging the old lady. "I wasn’t expecting you! Come in!"

"Thanks, dear. Don’t worry, I won’t stay long. I was around here to visit an ill friend and I dropped by to bring you some cake."

"Sweet as always, Aunt. Oh!" Peter just remembered about Wade, who is standing next to the sofa, face hidden by hoodie and cap again, fists closed at his sides.

May stops, slightly taken aback, but it’s a good kind of surprise and she smiles sweetly.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had guests, Peter! Good evening, mister…?"

"Wade." the man answers awkwardly and steps back when May moves closer extending her hand.

"Nice to meet you, mister Wade! I’m May Parker, Peter’s aunt."

Wade hesitates, but in the end he takes May’s hand and shakes it delicately. It’s obvious the old lady feels the scars, but her smile doesn’t waver and she returns the grip without problems.

"Would you like some cake? I don’t like bragging about my cooking skills, but this time it really came out good!"

Peter steps in, with an equally cheerful smile: “That apple pie was awesome, wasn’t it? I assure you her cakes are even better.”

"I…" Wade nervously looks around and then shakes his head, a frail scared smile on his lips. May is looking at him, but she doesn’t seem disgusted by the scars, just worried by his weird behavior.

"I was going away anyway. Thanks, Miss May, the apple pie was really good. Hey, Peter, see you… later, okay?" He nods at May and pats Peter’s shoulder before leaving the house with long fast steps.

"Did I… scare him?" May softly asks placing a hand on her cheek. "Poor boy. You never told me about him, Peter. What happened to him?"

"He…" Peter bites his lips. Should we tell half of the truth and speak of Wade’s cancer? Or should he make up something?

He goes with the simplest solution, hoping Wade won’t mind.

"He had an incident. A… a fire, when he was little."

Aunt May gasps, now both hands on her mouth.

"Oh, Peter, I’m so sorry! I hope I didn’t embarrass him! I should have called to tell you I was coming over!"

"No, no, don’t worry, Aunt! It’s okay, he’s just… shy." and this should be another good lie, but Peter actually believes it’s the truth: Wade is boisterous and chatty, but Peter can understand  _why_ , he does that too, it’s a defensive mechanism and under that arrogance there is an insecure and anxious man.

Aunt May leaves soon, still worried about _"that young man, I hope he’s fine!"_ and Peter has all the evening to think about what to tell Wade later during their patrol. When he starts wearing his Spider-Man costume after a simple meal, reassuring words and jokes are already in his mind.

But the patrol is brief, dull and above all _lonely_. Wade doesn’t show up. There is nothing to do tonight, Peter’s spider sense doesn’t tingle, no big explosions on the horizon, and he ends up on one of their usual rooftops with a hot dog in his hands and a sad and confused frown on his face.

Their day has been great. At least that’s how it looked like. Wade didn’t like all those people around him, but during their launch he was more relaxed and when they went to Peter’s apartment he was pretty much the usual laid back and playful man.

He was probably embarrassed by Aunt May’s presence, even though Peter would have never imagined Wade Wilson having problems with an old lady. He told him about Blind Al, but she seemed different, Wade talked about her almost as if he considered her a male friend…

The young hero munches the last bite of hot dog and mutters something under his breath, still confused and sad for what happened, but then his senses warn him about a presence and he turns to his right. Wade is waving at him, his mask pulled up to the nose, giving him a toothy smile.

"Hey, baby boy!" he says cheerfully trotting up to him. "Beautiful night, huh? Sorry, I’m late, but nothing interesting happened, right? I didn’t hear shots, explosions nor screams, so I guess everything is okay and nobody is trying to take over the world."

"It… it’s been a good night, yes." Peter confirms with a nod, trying to study Wade’s face even under the mask. "How are you, Wade?"

"Great, apart from the cancer and dizzy mind! But I’m used to those, so I suppose ‘great’ will do just fine."

Peter sighs hearing those words and gets up to look better at him in the eyes.

"I’m… I’m sorry for today. Aunt May didn’t mean to cause you discomfort. She already likes you, you know?"

"Then she is a stupid woman." Wade replies angrily, suddenly gruff and distant.

"Hey! Stop talking like this, you…"

"I _know_ who I am, Peter.”

"You are doing good." Peter says softly walking closer to him. Wade doesn’t move and lets him place a hand on his arm. "You are containing yourself and you are doing good things. And not just as Deadpool."  
  
Peter laughs when he remembers that kid’s happy face.  
  
“You surprised me today. It was very sweet.”

"I told you not to say that…" Wade grumbles, but there is a smile tugging at his lips and he visibly relaxes when Peter continues: "Just have a little more faith in yourself, okay? I’ll help you, but you have to do your part too. So no brooding, self-hatred and deprecation. You are doing _good_.”

Wade looks at him without uttering a word; he’s not smiling anymore, but he looks genuinely surprised and grateful. He slowly removes his mask and Peter can see those feelings in his eyes.

The merc raises his hand to touch Peter’s arm. He tries to say something, but words fail him and his mouth just stays open.

Peter looks at him with a quizzical smile, but slowly realizes how awkward their position is: his hand is still on the merc’s arm and they are very close to each other.

"Peter-"

A loud explosion and a fire coming from two buildings ahead interrupt them and their awkward conversation must wait, because they end up being too busy saving people from the fire to continue it.  
  
  
\- - -  
  
  
Actually they don’t talk about what was about to happen later either, because Peter doesn’t meet with Wade for a long week. The older man doesn’t show up at his patrols, doesn’t send him silly and dirty texts… he’s just gone.

Peter hopes with all his heart he didn’t accept a merc job, it would a big, _enormous_ step back.  
  
But Peter wants to trust Wade and he does so, waiting patiently for his return. Maybe he had something absolutely normal to do far away, private matters.

‘Or maybe’ Peter thinks with sadness ‘he’s growing tired of me.’

He misses their funny chats on top of lonely rooftops, their banters during battles, their shared love for TV shows and references nobody else understands. He misses _Wade_ and this is one of the biggest surprises ever happened in Peter’s life, but he accepts it and takes it gladly.

He even asks the Avengers about him, but receives just negative - and perplexed - answers. They know they have been patrolling together a lot, but they can’t imagine how that simple ‘team-up’ relationship became a full friendship.

Then, one chilly Sunday night, Peter sees him again.

There’s been a robbery in a small supermarket, but when Peter rushes there to web on the ceiling every armed criminal he can find, he finds out he’s been preceded.

The three robbers are tied up in a corner: one of them has a broken leg, another a broken wrist, the last one is unconscious, his right eye black and swollen. But they are alive and so are the customers and cashiers.

And in the middle of that mess there are Wade and the little kid they met that morning.

The little one is crying, but Wade is reassuring him and he shows a sweet smile through the tears, clutching at the merc’s costume. There is a bag near his feet and Peter assumes he must have been sent to buy groceries, but got involved in the scary robbery instead.

Peter observes the scene with a big smile and hides in the dark alley in front of the store, not wanting to alarm Wade, but he especially doesn’t want to steal his spotlight. _He_ is the hero tonight.

The police is finally coming - Peter can hear the cars and so can Wade because he strokes the child’s hair one last time and then he’s out, saying loudly: “Don’t forget to eat all your greens, kid, so you will become as strong and handsome as Deadpool!”

The young vigilante follows him into another abandoned alley, using the shadows to hide himself on the wall. Wade is excited, bouncing happily as he talks with his boxes.

“I know! Following those fuckers has been the greatest idea ever! And I made sure to repeat my name at least thirty times, so they know it was me and not Spidey. I think that kid recognized my logo on the belt, he looked like a clever boy.” He falls silent, probably listening to one of his boxes, then answers with a giggle: “Yes! I followed all Peter’s instructions: no killing, focus on the task, protect and reassure the innocent, just scare the baddies… It worked! I did something _heroic!_ ”  
  
He giggles again, happiness oozing from every inch of scarred skin, and murmurs softly:  “Peter is gonna be proud.”

“I am.”

Wade lets out an unmanly shriek and turns to where Peter is standing, mask off and a huge smile on his lips.

“You did a great job. Didn’t kill anyone, saved all the people… you even met the kid from the other day and calmed him!”

“Yeah… uh…” Wade rubs his neck and he can’t help returning the smile Peter is still giving him. “I looked for something nice and heroic to do all week, but nothing was good enough to end up in the news or the Avengers were always there before me. So this time I changed strategy and followed those fishy guys.”

Peter’s smile grows bigger and he grabs the merc’s waist without warning, making him gasp in surprise. He shoots a web to the building to their right and they go up, reaching the low roof.

“Petey, you have to warn me! Do you wanna make me swoon?” Wade jokes, but his high-pitched voice turns into a yelp when the young man abruptly takes his mask off.

“Hey, it’d be nice if you warned me for that too!” but his complains don’t last long when he sees the hand Peter is extending at him.

“I want to shake hands without mask.” Peter explains still smiling. “I want to give my thanks and compliments to Wade Wilson too, not just Deadpool.”

A familiar scene repeats: Wade opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out and he slowly takes Peter’s hand and shakes it with a strong grip.

“I’m proud of you.” Peter repeats and Wade’s eyes are casted low, but his thumb strokes gently the back of Peter’s smaller hand.

“Hey.” the young man calls him and the merc raises his eyes, still weirdly quiet. “Don’t be shy all of a sudden! It was a great job!”

“… I know.” the merc deadpans and they both laugh, hands still laced together. When they pull them away, Wade looks slightly disappointed, but Peter’s next words are a total shock for him.

“I missed you, knucklehead.”

The merc gulps, searching for traces of dishonesty on Peter’s face, but finds none and says weakly:

“Well, that was… unexpected.”

Peter laughs, but he’s interrupted by a yawn. It’s already so late, but fortunately he doesn’t have work tomorrow and he will probably spend the morning in bed. He tells so to Wade, asking him if he wants a ride back to his apartment.

“You will have to reciprocate my invite one of these days.” he says nudging at his side.

“Heh, I don’t have any cute gentle relative to introduce you to.” Wade thinks for a moment - or maybe listens to his boxes - and then adds with a wink: “But I can show you _my_ awesome collection of comics that totally makes yours pale in comparison.”

“We’ll see about that, Mr. Brag.”

Peter starts moving towards the ledge when Wade mutters something and he turns back to him.

“What?”

Peter jumps a little because Wade is super near now, he can feel his heat and breath on his face.

“I know…” Wade mutters, talking to his voices. “Yeah, yeah, right…”

“Wade, what…”

“No, please, Petey, don’t interrupt me, because this is really weird and awkward, okay? And I need to say it quickly or I could ruin everything and…”

“S-Say what, exactly?” Peter asks and he gasps when Wade grabs his arm and puts a big hand on his shoulder.

“Well, I’ve read a lot of stuff on the Web about this kind of things, the boxes helped too and I think I’ve got it now… I mean, I’m not good with words if they are not meant to offend, scare or annoy, but…” the merc takes a deep breath and pulls Peter closer. The young man stiffens, because they are _very_ close now and Wade’s broad chest is brushing his.

“You are a good boy and… fuck, this sounded so dirty, I swear I didn’t want to make that sound dirty! Uh… uh, good idea! Okay, let me redo this…”

Wade clears his throat and Peter can almost hear the gears in his head move and squeak as his brain looks for something more… more what? More sweet? _Romantic?_

“Wade…”

“No, no, I got this, Petey!” the scarred man interrupts him placing both his hands on his shoulders. His eyes are frantically avoiding Peter’s and the vigilante lets out a snort.

“You are a… umh, good person. You are a geek, always talking about nerdy stuff, thinking about others and initially I thought that was very stupid, but now I think it’s also adorable and cute. Sometimes you are a dick, but I can understand it, it’s not easy dealing with such a magnificent person. And… and you helped me and had faith in me. Hell, you even invited me at your home and you wanted to introduce me to your aunt! I…”

He sighs, rubbing his eyes with his index and thumb and he looks terribly tired.

“Okay. I can do this.” he resumes after another deep breath. “Wow, is this how it feels like? Jesus Christ, it’s a pain in the ass! Why does everybody think that thanking someone and confessing your sentiments is easy?! How do they do that in the movies and books?”

“You want to do what?”

“ _Oh_ _fuck._ Please, tell me I didn’t say that out loud. Please, Peter.” Wade is in despair and Peter is pretty sure his eyes are going to fall out of their sockets any moment now.

“Shut up!” Wade shouts hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand. “It’s you who are confusing me! Stop talking, I just ruined the magic moment!”

“Wade…”

The merc silences him with a ‘shh!’ and starts rubbing his temples. Peter patiently waits, still and serious, respecting Wade’s mental tribulations.

“Pretend you didn’t hear anything, Petey.” the scarred man whimpers and his eyes are the eyes of a scared puppy. He seems lost and awkward and a corner of his mouth is trembling.

Peter hides his smile behind a hand and nods solemnly, but Wade isn’t fooled and he groans, ducking his head and cursing his internal voices who made him talk too much.

“It’s your fault, Yellow!” he growls. “Always joking when it’s not the right time! Yeah, tell him, White! God, you’re such an ass, why do you always have to ruin everything!”

And then Peter lifts his head, delicately not to startle him, but he does the same because he kisses him, a soft chaste kiss on the chapped lips.

Wade pulls away, seizing Peter’s wrists and holding them far from his face.

“What… what was that?”

He forgot about Peter’s super strength, though: the young man frees himself with little difficulty and puts his hands on the merc’s face for the second time.

“Don’t…” Wade whispers stopping their lips from coming closer by pulling back. “Peter, don’t do it if you are not sure.” His gaze is stern, scared, but also surprised, happy, dumbfounded…There is hope in his voice, mixed with resignation and a silent prayer.

Peter stares back at him, his face unreadable. Wade wavers for three long seconds, then starts to move away, smiling sadly. Before he can do so, Peter grips his costume and smashes their lips together, cupping his cheek. Wade moans through the kiss, letting his hands roam through Peter’s hair and back.

“Air.” Peter breathes out after several minutes of smooching. “Wow.” he adds with a goofy smile, that Wade returns, but hides immediately in the crook of his slender neck.

“Did I have to warn you about this too?” Peter jokes and the older man shakes his head, mumbling: “… It was a nice surprise.”

“I know, right?”

They stay like that for a while, inhaling each other’s scent. Peter thinks with a fond smile that Wade’s is a mix between gunpowder, cheap Mexican food and strawberry-scented shampoo.

“So this means…” Wade mutters lifting his head to look into Peter’s eyes. “This means we are… together? In that special sense that makes people tingly inside?”

“Yes.” Peter laughs. “I hope that’s what you wanted to tell me.”

“It was.” Wade groans rubbing his neck. “It’s not my fault I fucked up! I planned it since _forever_ , I practiced in front of a mirror, in the shower, while taking a dump… oh, sorry. Anyway, I even asked Blind Al to listen to my speech and it was fabulous, she had to admit it! … After a little dose of laxative…”

“I don’t want to know.” Peter laughs shaking his head. “But it’s been sweet, Wade, don’t worry. Ops, I shouldn’t say that word, should I?”

The merc snorts and softly strokes the young man’s cheek. His eyes are filled with awe and worry and Peter urges him to speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s… it’s not a hallucination, is it? I’m not dreaming, right? The voices…” he stops, suddenly distant and scared again. “I planned everything, but I never thought that…”

“It’s real.” Peter reassures him squeezing his hands. “Don’t listen to those voices.” He gives him another kiss, then proposes shyly: “Do you want to come over to my place?”

“I don’t have my special doggy pajamas.” Wade pouts, but his face brightens when he realizes all the special and good consequences: “Or are you suggesting something with less clothes involved?”

“Maybe.” Peter shows a shy and lascivious smile and the combination is so cute, disarming and hot Wade can already feel things moving in the lower parts of his costume.

“And” the young man adds stroking Wade’s back in a reassuring way “we could invite my Aunt for lunch. She really wants to meet you again. She is extremely sorry for what happened last week.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong.” Wade replies with a confused frown. “She… she has been very kind.”

“Is that why you ran away like that?”

Wade lowers his eyes, his nod almost invisible.

“I didn’t want to scare her. Or offend her. Or make her angry. Or make _you_ angry.”

“You won’t do anything like that, stupid.” Peter says softly. “And she wasn’t disgusted by your look, if that’s what you fear. I didn’t told her about your cancer - it’d be very hard to explain - so I made up something with a fire. She still thinks she was the one who scared _you_.”

Wade snorts, as if that’s the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard in his life, and says in a low voice: “I like old grandmas. Not in that sense though. Please don’t laugh. It’s just that most of them are kind, cook good things, spoil you and smell nice.”

“She loves Bea Arthur too, you know?”

“Holy shit.” This time it’s like Wade just heard the most awesome thing in his life and he starts giggling and clapping his hands.

“Really?! Really?! She’s one of my people! A sister among heretics and blind people without faith!”

“Let’s go home, Wade.” Peter laughs. “You will have all the time to think about the things you can share with my Aunt once we are comfy and warm under a blanket.”

“Hell no!” the merc pouts as Peter wraps firmly an arm around his waist to support him during the trip. “What about that ‘no-clothes-involved’ thing?”

“We can do that too.”

“Deal.”

And they head back home, Wade already listing all the episodes he absolutely has to discuss about with Miss May.  
  
  
\- - -  
  
  
A year has passed.

They are “official” now, sharing a small apartment perfect for two men. It’s not so distant from Aunt May’s house and they can visit her quite often. She and Wade are best friends since their second meeting and she has been happy and not judgmental when they told her about their relationship.

Peter met Blind Al too. She sure is hot-blooded, very down-to-earth, but Peter sensed a particular affection coming from her. She has a good heart after all and seemed very happy and relieved to hear about him and Wade.

Wade also shared his past with him and that has been a sad, tears-filled night, but it also confirmed their trust in each other and made their relationship stronger.

It’s during a calm winter day, when everyone is at home enjoying the warmth of their food and beds, that Peter realizes it.

The feeling bursts into him like an explosion, a rampaging fire that makes him blush and smile goofily.

Wade is building a tower with some pancakes, dressed in the pink sweater Aunt May made for him. He’s carefully adding the last pancake on the already tall pile, mumbling something under his breath. Peter knows he’s not talking to his voices, though, he doesn’t hear them since they got together.

He gets up slowly and sits across from Wade at the kitchen counter, admiring his masterpiece.

“Impressive, isn’t it, baby boy?” Wade whispers, eyes never leaving the shaky tower. He’s trying to find the perfect place for a little flag now. “And it took me only thirty pancakes!”

“I love you.”

Wade jumps and the flag impales the first pancakes like a spear. The tower wobbles for few, long and terrifying seconds, then stops, glorious and epic, a true modern composition.

“What?” Wade whispers, eyes locked with Peter’s.

“I love you.” Peter repeats and leans above the counter to kiss him, making sure not to touch the pancakes tower.

Wade blushes and fidgets, shuffling nervously his feet on the floor.

“Thank you.” he says sincerely.

“Wow, that was very Han Solo-ish!” Peter laughs, but he’s moved by Wade’s sheepish look. The scarred man frowns and grumbles: “If he can reply with ‘I know’, why can’t I do the same with ‘Thank you’? It’s what I feel.”

“Wade…” Peter says softly getting up to walk around the counter and sit on Wade’s lap, but the merc precedes him and he stands up too.

“I… I have to go to buy more pancakes!” he stammers and, after placing a quick kiss on Peter’s lips and taking his jacket, he’s gone.

He comes back three hours later, with no pancakes, but a big box of chocolates instead.

“I was going to call you!” Peter sighs relieved. “I managed to cook dinner without ruining your pancakes tower, but I don’t know how long it’s gonna stand.” He sees the box in Wade’s hands and arches a brow, smiling with a hint of surprise. “Wade…?”

“… I may have eaten some on the way back home, but I didn’t touch your favorites.”

 

Later that night, while they are lying in bed with their limbs tangled together and Wade is spooning Peter holding tightly his hands, the scarred man says in a whisper: “I love you, Peter.”

“Thank you.”

Wade yelps and raises to watch Peter’s face: he wasn’t sleeping as he thought he was. His eyes are closed, but he’s definitely awake and smiling sweetly - and a bit smugly too.

“You… you…” Wade groans hiding his face in his boyfriend’s hair, whose laugh shakes both their bodies. Peter then turns over and kisses the life out of him, his smile now sweeter.

“I love you too, Wade.”

And Wade cups his cheek, returning his smile and kiss.

“Thank you.”


End file.
